


i carry it in my heart

by WrathoftheStag (Mwuahna)



Series: Their Life in France [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Courtship, Hannibal Loves Will, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Murder Husbands, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Shyness, Slow Burn, Soooooo sweet, Will Loves Hannibal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 22:54:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7820410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mwuahna/pseuds/WrathoftheStag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Wrath of the Lamb, Will and Hannibal shyly and slowly find their way toward each other through this quiet courtship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i carry it in my heart

**Author's Note:**

> From the Tumblr prompt by [petite-mortem](http://petite-mortem.tumblr.com/): "Please put me down it's just a sprained ankle!" Thanks for the prompt! ;)

In the weeks following their slow and steady convalescence, Will and Hannibal found themselves in unfamiliar territory.  While their relationship had initially been filled with bravado, teasing, and violence they were now ensconced in uncertainty, timidity, and fear.  Although the fear was not one of mortal danger, but rather a far greater one; fear of rejection, fear of unrequited emotions, fear of a broken heart.  The most dangerous of mortal wounds to be sure.

Amid mornings of shy breakfasts (both reaching for the creamer at the same time, fingers accidentally grazing, arms quickly pulling away as if burned), quiet lunches working side-by-side in the kitchen (Hannibal not 100% up to cooking, Will 100% up to assisting him), and dinners sitting outside under the stars (plates precariously balanced on laps, as Will points out the constellations above), the two grew shyer and shyer by the day.

Hannibal would walk out of his bathroom, as Will would try to walk in.  Both blushing at the improvisational dance taking place trying to move out of the other’s way.  Hannibal stopped, placed his hand gingerly on Will’s shoulder, scooting him to the side ever so gently.  He walked away leaving behind his scent of sandalwood and musk that was uniquely Hannibal's.  Leaning against the doorjamb, Will melted into the scent, inhaling deeply and clutching at his rapidly beating heart.  

One afternoon, as Hannibal sat on the couch reading a book on the poetry of e.e. cummings, Will stood by the door and watched.  Hannibal raised an eyebrow and looked over his reading glasses, as Will asked what he was reading.

Hannibal read from the book to Will:

    _i carry your heart with me(i carry it in_  
_my heart)i am never without it(anywhere_  
_i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done  
    by only me is your doing,my darling)_

Will smiled, looking toward the floor, still hovering in the doorway.  Patting the sofa cushion next to him, Hannibal invited him to sit and join him.  Will happily came over and quickly sat down, without realizing Hannibal’s hand was still there.

The two looked at each other for a moment, butt cheek planted firmly over hand. Will jumped up and apologized, as he fled the room.  Hannibal sat, not breathing, the ghost of Will’s warmth departing from his hand.

And so they went on with pining surreptitious glances, unspoken declarations delivered through cups of coffee brought out on rainy mornings, a warm blanket tossed on cold feet, a favorite meal made two nights in a row, a new fishing lure discreetly left with a ribbon on a bedside table.  Chopin, Stravinsky, and Bach providing the soundtrack for this unusual courtship.

One morning when Hannibal was in their small yard, collecting some basil (Will loved basil fried rice, you see), he was so caught up in the idea of Will enjoying the meal that he did not see the paver before him.  Tripping, Hannibal landed loudly with a thud on the ground; basil flying through the air.  Will (who had been quietly watching Hannibal work from the kitchen window) appeared and rushed to Hannibal’s aid, helping him stand.

The concern on Will’s face upon seeing Hannibal wince in pain, was palpable.  Wrapping an arm around Hannibal’s waist, and in turn taking Hannibal’s arm around his was more than Hannibal could take.  It wasn’t the discomfort of his foot making him sweat, making his heart race, his adrenalin rush.  No. It was the proximity to his Will.  

Pulling himself slightly away, Hannibal whispered, "Please put me down, it's just a sprained ankle."

But it was no use, arm entangled with arm, hand touching waist, fingers suddenly intertwining, eyes searching and longing.  The two looked into each other’s eyes, and realized the importance of this moment.   Will slowly leaned in, closing his eyes, and ever so slightly brushed his lips against Hannibal’s.  Hannibal, not trusting that this was actually happening, kept his eyes opened and saw everything.  His breath stuttered and hitched, as Will pulled away slowly.  A ghost of a kiss.

Will opened his eyes and said, “Never.”  He then helped his love inside the house.

      _here is the deepest secret nobody knows_  
_(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud_  
_and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows_  
_higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)  
     and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart_

_i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)_

**Author's Note:**

> e.e. cummings' [[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/detail/49493).
> 
> Come say hi and visit me [on Tumblr](http://wrathofthestag.tumblr.com/).


End file.
